The Fortune Teller
by xXxJasonxXx
Summary: Edward is a fortuneteller. Bella is a skeptical, practical woman who reluctantly agrees to be his new assistant in order to make money. They share a passionate hatred for each other that soon turns to desire. Will love bloom in the tarot cards? OOC & AH


**Jason: So my girl and I was eating ice cream together on the couch when we saw this commercial for a psychic. All of a sudden, Ori gasps and tells me that we should do a fanfic about something like this. So that's what we're doing now!**

**Ori: Except this story isn't about a psychic exactly. We'll just give you the full summary: Edward is a fortuneteller. Bella is a skeptical, practical woman who reluctantly agrees to be his new assistant in order to make money. They share a passionate hatred for each other that soon turns to desire. Will love bloom within the Tarot cards and palm readings? AH & OOC**

**Jason: And just so everyone knows, we did an extensive amount of research on both palm readings, tarot cards, and even a crystal ball. But, in the end, we decided that the crystal ball was WAY too cliché.**

**Ori: We really hope you enjoy this fic. It's a bit of an experiment with us. We might just leave this a one-shot. It depends on if anyone likes it.**

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**Edward Cullen**

I studied the woman's face for a minute, observing the cautious way she sat and the nervous flitting of her eyes. It was obvious she had never been in a fortuneteller's shop before. I glanced around us, trying to see this objectively.

We were in a small, dark room. Dark green drapes covered the picture window that looked out onto the streets of New York City, barring any light that hoped to enter. I detested the elaborate surroundings that some fortunetellers had; the suns and moons motif was old and the sequined clothing and fabrics were cliché. I preferred a more normal, cleaner room. I sat on one side of the table, facing the woman in front of me. The table was small so I could easily reach over and take her hand if she asked me to read her palm. A red tablecloth covered the antique surface, protecting the delicate wood.

"What would you like?" I asked kindly, hoping to ease this woman out of her nervousness. I had my tarot cards laying on the side of the table just in case that's what she wanted.

"My palm," she said quickly, throwing her right hand towards me.

"It's alright," I said soothingly, taking her hand in mine. "Is this your dominant hand?"

"My what?"

I smiled kindly. "The hand you write with," I explained. Her eyes lingered on my face before moving lower. She was probably surprised that I dressed like a normal human being and not a gypsy.

She switched hands, handing me her left one this time. I studied the size of her fingers, the shape of her palm and the space between her forefinger and her thumb. Many people thought there was only one thing that a palm reader studied – the lines in the palm – but there was so much more. Not only that, one had to be skilled at reading faces.

I lightly traced her lifeline with my fingernail.

She jumped, startled at my touch. I could see her pulse thudding in her veins. I wondered if something was wrong.

"There is a man in your life," I said, hoping she didn't realize I was stating the obvious. "He has caused a great change in your life."

Her eyes widened. "How did you know?"

I felt bad for taking advantage of such a woman. But that's what most fortunetellers were – cons.

"What is his name?" I asked conversationally.

"Robert." I saw her relax a little, glad that I wasn't going to do anything supernatural and freaky. "What else do you see?" She craned her head to look at her palm. I quickly hid my smile, wanting to appear professional.

"I see that you are a very emotional woman but have trouble expressing those emotions." I then traced her heart line with my nail.

"How do you know?"

"Your heart line tells me," I simply stated.

My eyes moved over the contours of her hand. I noticed there was a break in her lifeline. This could either mean a cataclysmic event or a physical injury. I decided that the first was more probable. "There has been a traumatic event in your past." I didn't mention that it was so easy to say this. Ninety percent of people have had traumatic events in their pasts. It was usually a death.

"Yes," she said sadly. "My husband died two months ago."

"And yet you still wear this ring."

"I can't bear to part with it," she replied. "Mark wants me to get rid of it but I couldn't stand it if I did. He's angry that I still wear it even though we're together."

I made a point of focusing my eyes on her palm again. "Mark makes you afraid, nervous," I stated. Obviously, this wasn't on her hand. But it was evident in the way she spoke of him, as if he was going to come bursting through the door yelling at her. I had a hunch that this Mark was the kind of man who beat the women in his life.

Her eyes went down to her lap and she nodded, ashamed.

I couldn't leave her like this. The woman had said that she didn't have much money so I didn't have time to spend a long time with her. But I could at least leave her with a bit of hope.

"But there will soon be another major event in your life, something that will change you forever. I see bright happiness in your future."

The poor woman, she was the kind to grasp onto any shred of hope that someone gave her. I wondered what had prompted her to visit a fortuneteller's shop. She smiled brightly as she stood up to leave. I stood too, not forgetting my manners, and gave her a chaste kiss on her cheek. She blushed slightly and walked to the door, taking one glance back before pulling it open and walking on the busy New York sidewalk.

I sighed deeply and sank into my chair once again. I had been working without an assistant for months now. Although I didn't need one for palm readings, I needed one for tarot card readings and other more elaborate stints. Swallowing my pride, I had sat a Help Wanted sign in my window a few weeks ago, hoping that someone would walk into my shop, preferably female. I didn't have many male clients, maybe one a month at the most, even though my hours were booked. I was one of the most popular fortunetellers in Manhattan, one of the most sought after.

Going into the back room, I walked up the stairs that led to my living quarters. My home was a two-story building that I used for dual purpose. The first floor was my workspace; the second floor was where I lived. The walls of my home were sparse and unornamented. I only had the bare essentials. I ate a meager meal of Golden Grahams cereal before going back downstairs.

I used the backroom as a sort of prop room and cash register.

Unhappy with the gloomy atmosphere around me, I pulled back the curtains that blocked the light from entering through the window. Outside, night was descending. Neon lights were blazing to life and the glow of cell phone screens were everywhere. A taxi went screaming past, speeding as always.

**+++++++Later+That+Night+++++++**

I was in the backroom when I heard the bell on the door chime.

Someone had entered my shop.

I quickly went into the main room. Everything was dark. Only the tiny lamp on the round table provided light. I had once again drawn the curtains over the now-black windows. Through the glow of the lamp, I saw that it was another woman, standing uncertainly in the doorway, her hand still holding the door open like she was about to walk right out of it again.

She was a pretty woman, mid-twenties, with dark brown hair. Her skin was pale, even in the warm light of the lamp. She wore a pair of jeans and a loose violet top that made me wonder what she looked like beneath it. She was biting her lip uncertainly and I was reminded of the woman who had came in before. This woman hadn't seen me yet. I watched her eyes scan her surroundings, surprise flitting across her face when she realized that I didn't indulge in the silly trinkets and embellishments that most fortunetellers did. She was thin and wide-eyed as she stood there. I couldn't help but be afraid that I would drown in those chocolate eyes if I stared into them too long.

"Hello," I said pleasantly. She jumped in surprise. Once again, I thought of the nervous woman who had visited me earlier. "How may I help you?"

Her eyes locked on mine, assessing me. I suddenly felt like a bug under a microscope. She sighed deeply and attempted to smile. "Yes. There was a Help Wanted sign . . ." She let her sentence trail off, unfinished.

So she wanted to be my new assistant.

"Please sit down." I gestured to the chair that was near the table. She gratefully went to sit down, breathing deeply in relief that I wasn't going to bite her.

Wanting to make her squirm, I walked around her once, letting my eyes roam over her body. Now that she was leaning back against the chair, I could see the shape of her body through the sheer violet shirt. Her breasts were round and small, her stomach flat and toned. She crossed her legs impatiently and couldn't help but let my eyes travel over the slim columns of her legs.

"What is your name?" I asked, keeping this businesslike.

"Bella Swan," she replied. "Look, don't you have an application that I can fill out or something. And stop walking around me like that." Her voice was low and harsh.

I stopped my circle around her only because I wanted to sit down in my usual seat at the table across from her. "Do you know what position you will be in?" I asked.

The way her eyes widened, I could tell that she had caught the unintentional double meaning in my words. Then they narrowed dangerously. I could tell that this Bella Swan was going to be a fiery one. But I found that indispensable in my assistants. "No," she finally said. "Why don't you tell me?" I didn't miss the sarcastic tone in her voice.

It baffled me why she would be this unfriendly when she was applying for a job. Shouldn't she want to impress the employer? I doubted that the way to an owner's heart was through animosity. I interlaced my fingers and rested my elbows on the tabletop, simply looking at her.

"You will be my assistant for things such as palm readings and tarot card readings. In some of those tarot card readings, I will need for you to shuffle the deck and things like that; it's critical to any fortuneteller that a third party do such things. Also, there will be more complicated things that I will need your help with, such as occasional séances. But those are rare." I continued to list off her duties, almost hoping to scare her off. This woman inspired an intense hostility in me. I wanted to show her exactly where her place was. I was her employer and she was my employee.

Her eyes were amused as they watched me. I grew less and less patient as continued. Finally, I just stopped and looked at her.

"Are you still willing to take the job?" I asked then.

"Of course." She smiled, but it looked forced. "I can handle anything you give me."

I nodded once. I would have to accept her. I wasn't going to get any other offers and if I didn't have an assistant, I couldn't do those higher paying jobs. Tarot cards only got you so far. The big money was in séances. Also, a fortuneteller with at least one assistant would be regarded twice as trustworthy as someone working alone.

"Then you can start now."

"What?!" She jumped out of her chair, her face flushing from anger. "Now? Are you crazy? I think I deserve at least a days notice."

"I think not," I disagreed. For some reason I enjoyed watching that amused, arrogant façade leave her face. Her face blazed with anger and I was surprised to find that she was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. That only annoyed me more. I wanted to keep this professional and getting involved with an employee was _not _the way to go. "You will start now or you won't get the job. And I'm glad you wiped that smug look off your face. I will not have an employee acting as if they are better than me. There will be no arrogance in my shop."

"So I guess that means you better leave," she retorted. She glared at me and leaned over the table so that her face was only a foot from mine.

In this position I could see her face better. She had full pink lips and large eyes. Her skin was smooth and without blemish, her brown hair made a curtain on either side of her face, the silky tresses hanging down. My fingers tingled with an unfamiliar need to wind them in that hair and pull that beautiful face to mine.

"I have plans for tonight," she hissed. "And I'll be damned if I let you ruin them."

"Then I guess you're not getting the job, Miss Swan," I snapped. "Either you stay and help me with my next clients, or you don't get the job at all."

Pure hatred poured from her eyes as she glowered at me. I suddenly wondered why she was so determined to get this job that she would be willing to argue with me. Maybe she needed money badly. And what were these plans that she had? Well, I hoped she fucking stayed and destroyed those plans.

"Fine."

I blinked in shock. I had half expected her to waltz right out that door again, leaving me with the problem of finding another assistant. I quickly wiped the surprised look from my face and was hard, unsympathetic Edward once again.

"Then go into that room and change," I ordered.

"Why?"

"Because at least someone here has to look the part." If I was honest with myself, I simply wanted some time to think. This woman ignited my feelings like no one else. When she walked through the threshold to the backroom, I sighed and slid deeper into my chair. It was as if she took all the life from the room when she left.

Infuriatingly, I could only think about how she had smelled when her face had been so close to mine. Strawberries. Why fuck were strawberries now my favorite fruit? Tonight, I would teach her how to address clients, how to keep them interested and paying more. I wondered what costume she would choose. My mind went over all the possibilities, imaging her in all kinds of clothing – a dark dress with a thick gold band that went just under her bust, a slinky genie costume that moved against her skin in all the right ways.

When I heard the door slowly open, I looked up. She walked in wearing a violet dress that came to mid-thigh. Silver stars twinkled in a pattern over the dress and a silver metallic band was just under her breasts. The dress had thick straps and created an A shape at her hips. Finally, my eyes went to her face and I saw that she had cooled down a little. She still hated me but not as vehemently.

For some reason it was hard to speak. She reminded me of a moon goddess, all silver and dark velvet.

"Are you happy now?" she demanded condescendingly. All awe was gone from my mind with that one sentence. My eyes narrowed and so did hers.

"There is one more matter that we need to discuss," I said, pointedly not answering her question. "You will not get a steady pay. For each reading that I do, you will get one fourth of what I am paid. I hope you know I am being very generous."

"Oh I know exactly how generous you are," she said.

I didn't know what she meant by that. Was it possible that she had heard about me before? And judging by how she was acting, it wasn't good things. "The first thing you need to know about this profession is that you treat it like a profession," I trudged on. "It's not a game. It's how I make my living and I am very good at it. Treat the clients with respect and dignity, and pay attention to everything they say and how they react. Palm and Tarot reading doesn't come from the hand or card solely, it's a combination of knowledge and observation."

"Yes, sir," she said, no longer angry but with a faint trace of sarcasm.

I heard the door move slightly and I jumped up. I always made it a point to greet the customer at the door. Sometimes they liked it and sometimes they were freaked out. I glanced at Bella to see that she had moved against the wall, now only a lovely shadow on the dark wallpaper.

A middle-aged woman came through the door. She was elaborately dressed with a long string of pearls around her neck. She looked tired and world-weary. I smiled kindly and nodded to her.

"Hello, madam," I began. "How may I help you?" I took her outstretched hand and gave it a kiss on the back. She fluttered her eyelashes flirtatiously when she looked into my face. I knew that I was attractive to women. That was one of the reasons I was so popular. Women would rather go to a good-looking man than a haggard woman for advice and readings.

"Shouldn't you already know?" she asked evasively. "After all, you _are_ a fortuneteller." The woman smiled.

"How right you are." I still held her hand and I turned to lead her to the table. "Please have a seat. Would you like something to drink?"

"No thank you."

I sat down in my usual seat and watched the woman before me. Bella was still standing against the wall, unsure of what to do. "What is your name?" I asked the woman.

"Madeline," she answered. "It was my grandmother's name."

"How lovely. My mother's name was Madeline," I lied. Anything to calm this woman. I wanted her so that she would be putty in my hands. I wanted her to flirt with me, that would show that she was truly comfortable. Then she would divulge more information and I could read her palm and tell her what I saw. She could construe everything I said in so many different ways.

"How extraordinary," Madeline murmured.

"Would you like me to read your palm? Or maybe you would prefer the Tarot cards."

"The cards, please."

She watched as I picked up the stack of cards that were on the side of the round table. I glanced at Bella, our eyes locking, and I motioned her over. "Shuffle these, please," I said shortly. My eyes drifted down her legs. She wore a pair of dark colored heels that she had been wearing before. They went surprisingly well with the dress. I felt my pants grow tighter.

Fuck, Cullen, I hissed to myself. Get your act together!

Her delicate fingers shuffled the cards and I couldn't help but wonder what those fingers would feel like when closed over my cock. She handed the deck back to me and I quickly laid a spread, the Horseshoe. The cards were laid so that they made a V. Bella stood behind me. Her presence was like a hot iron on my skin, branding me, letting me know she was there.

Madeline watched my every move, fascinated. I slowly turned over the first card.

The Lovers.

On the card was printed what almost looked like a landscape. There was a tree and a naked man and woman on either side of the card.

"What does that mean?" Madeline asked before I had time to answer.

I wasn't as skilled with the cards as I was with palm reading. I knew a lot, but not enough to be called an expert. Now I was feeling my ignorance. Madeline watched as I uncovered more cards – The Fool, Death, and others. I explained each one and what they meant. I was surprised, though, that the first card had been The Lovers. The first uncovered card was usually the "question" card. What was it asking?

I made up a reading since I wasn't sure what the cards were saying. "You are in a relationship, are you not?" I asked her.

"Well, not exactly. I suppose I might be. It's in the early stages," she explained apologetically.

"I see." I nodded understandingly. "And do you love this man?"

She beamed and nodded. "Oh yes. He is my life." Her eyes moved over the now uncovered cards, settling on Death. "But what does that mean?" She pointed to the card that bore the skeleton.

"It doesn't necessarily mean that someone will die," I answered quickly. "It can also be hardships or something of the sort." I assumed that she had come to me because she wanted to know if her relationship with this man would progress. She was obviously in love with him and he just had yet to realize it.

After another reading at her insistence, we were finished. Madeline smiled and thanked me, near tears. I had told her that her love life would grow and that she would become very close to someone.

"I didn't catch your name," she said, handing me a hundred dollar bill.

"Edward, madam," I answered, smiling. "It's been a true pleasure to meet you."

She flushed and giggled. Then she walked out of the door, leaving me with the infuriating woman that aroused me.

"That was it?" came her voice from behind me. She sounded surprised. "I thought I would do more."

I turned around and put the hundred-dollar bill in the cash register in the backroom. I got out twenty-five dollars, keeping to our deal of one fourth the profits. "Here." I handed it to her. "I'm closing up for the night. I want to see you here tomorrow at eight in the morning. The longer you stay, the more money you make because you will be here to see more clients. Understood? I take weekends off so I won't need you then. Think you can handle that?"

She eyed me, both curious and antagonistic. Although I couldn't blame her. My tone had been patronizing.

"Think you can manage to act like a person that has a heart instead of a jackass?" she shot back.

"Go change and leave," I ordered. "Be here at eight sharp. If you're not then that's pay you get docked off."

She glared at me and went into the backroom to change. When she emerged she was dressed in her earlier clothes once again. She walked to the door and went out before I could say anything in response. The door slammed behind her, the glass shuddering. I growled in anger. She was the most infuriating woman I had ever met and I wanted to rip her head off for it. Yet, at the same time, she was the most alluring woman I had ever met.

That night, I had trouble sleeping. The sight of her smooth skin haunted me. I wanted to take her breasts in my hands and squeeze. I wanted to lick between her legs and taste the sweet juice that poured from her pussy. I wanted to fuck her, damn it. I cursed viciously and tossed in the bed. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore.

All the thoughts running through my head had caused me to get a hard-on. I knew I was going to have a horrible case of blue balls if I didn't do anything about it. I pulled my boxers down, since that's the only thing I slept in, and stroked myself experimentally. I bit my lip.

At first I was slow but then it turned rough. I made an O with my hands and began to give myself a handjob. I jerked my hard dick, then squeezed. I imagined that it was Bella's skilled hands that were touching me. I wondered how it would feel to have her mouth around my cock. I groaned at the thought.

My dick throbbed beneath my fingers, so hard that I was beginning to cramp. I needed some kind of release. It was the first time I had masturbated in at least five years and I was rusty. Of course I had fucked other women before, but none of them – _none_ of them – had made me this ready, this hard. I was angry that she had such control over my body. And she hadn't so much as even touched me! It was ridiculous. I was going to have to pull myself together before I saw her tomorrow.

I groaned deeply as I released, imagining the way her hot pussy would feel around my cock as I slammed into her.

Fuck.

It was going to be a long night.

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**Jason: Aw, that sucks, Edward. Poor guy is so horny and he can't fuck the girl. I know how he feels. *pouts***

**Ori: Oh, baby, you know I still love you. Besides, in due time it will happen. Don't worry.**

**Jason: We hoped you liked it! It might just turn out to be a one-shot even though it wasn't written for one. Yes, this story will be rated M for a reason. You think Edward masturbating was bad? Then you should read what is next. lol.**

**Ori: This was just a little idea that we had and we wanted to get it out. Yes, House of Lust will still be updated but this is a little side thing. Please review?**

**Jason: Review if you love me! **

**Ori: Does that mean I should review?**

**Jason: Well, if you want to I guess you could . . . but how about you just **_**show**_** me how much you love me? *winks* **


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